Tears from the Moon
by Dimensional Traveller
Summary: In 1901 a murder changes newsboy history. Modern day. Emmaline is opening a museum in the old Brooklyn Lodging House. When Daniel Conlon is hired, the Lodging House's past returns to haunt the two in the forms of memories and ghosts from 100 years ago...
1. Tears from the Moon Prologue 1901

**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, Disney does. I own Floaty and Katrina. Sheriff (the leader of Bronx) is owned by Lilyanatos AKA Alley. **

**(A/N: This is my last rewrite of "Tears From the Moon." I didn't like the two other versions.)**

_In the late summer of 1899 Spot Conlon and Floaty began to fall in love with one another. Other newsies saw it as puppy love, everyone knew the King of Brooklyn only chased after young women who were middle class with schooling; or girls who were tough and proved to be almost impossible to deal with. Never had they expected the tough newsboy to fall for a shy but strong messenger girl, Joseph Pulitzer's messenger at that. In the early spring of 1900 Spot proposed to Floaty, giving her a small heart shaped lavaliere watch with a message he etched into the back himself: For Floaty, the only love in my life. Love Forever, Spot Conlon._

_The two married 4 months later. Then, in the midsummer of 1901 Floaty gave birth to a small baby girl the young couple named Katrina. The baby had her mother's dark brown eyes, her father's sandy light brown hair, her mother's nose, and her father's face. Both wanted to make a real life for their baby, Floaty founded a small reading and writing class in the Brooklyn Library, which was a short walk away from the Lodging House. It was held twice a week each week. Spot sold papers every day while on the side he delivered packages for the post office._

_Every newsie in New York was shocked: Spot Conlon - the KING of the newsies - was working for a post office. Though it was shocking, they quickly accepted this change. No one dared to cross the tough newsie, except for Harlem from time to time._

_However, it wasn't until the early fall of 1901 the Newsies' lives were changed forever:_

"Hush a bye, don't you cry, go to sleep my pretty little baby. When you wake you shall have all the pretty little ponies, blacks and grays..." 19 year old Floaty sang softly to Katrina as she slowly and gently rocked her in her arms.

Katrina's wide brown eyes stared up at her, sometimes her tiny pink lips trembled, then after nearly two hours of singing the baby fell to sleep.

Floaty smiled as she placed the baby back into the crib and looked down at Katrina. She was so beautiful, and she reminded Floaty so much of Spot. Katrina, although she was only two months old, reminded her mother of her husband. The baby was stubborn when it came to sleeping; however she had a very healthy appetite; and when there was something she didn't like or she wanted she cried loudly. Floaty stifled a laugh, Spot was the same way, only he used words. When there was something he wanted or didn't like he was very loud about it.

"Aww, how sweet, mama's rockin' da baby ta sleep."

Floaty turned and glared at the intruder, Oscar Delancey came sauntering in Spot and her's room as if he belonged there. A cocky smirk on his face let her know he was up to no good - as usual - but the way his light brown eyes twinkled warned her there was going to be trouble...Bad trouble.

"You're not allowed in this lodging house, Oscar. Get out," Floaty demanded firmly as she stood her ground in front of Katrina's crib. No way in hell was she about to let the man near her child.

"Actin' tough as usual, I'se see. Youse weren't so tough dat time in dat alley way when youse uncle's men were chasin' after ya," Oscar gloated, "Morris and I'se helped ya, we'se did a favor..."

"And that debt has been long since repaid, Delancey," Floaty replied in annoyance, "I talked Mr. Pulitzer into hiring you both as apprentice reporters and I taught you how to read, write, and speak proper english."

"Oh, proper English!" He exclaimed as he put his hands over his chest.

Floaty squared her jaw, "I see you are not putting none of it to use."

"Well I'se will, I'se came here to take youse and Katrina wid me. Marry me, I'se gettin' a good salary and Pulitzer will give me a raise and make me a full reportah if I marry. Morris married his goil last month an' he's a full fledged reporter. Da moment I'se found out I'se needed ta marry, pretty lil' youse went into me mind. Youse proper, beautiful, and wid Katrina we'se can start a family together. How 'bout dat? I'se promise ta love dat baby as if she were me own, and when I'se move we'se will have electricity!"

"Katrina and myself aren't going anywhere with you, Oscar. I'm happily married to Spot, thank you. I appreciate the offer -"

"Offer? _Offer?!_ Dis ain't no offer! Youse gonna be me wife!"

"I'm a married woman -"

"Wid only an old worn down watch ta show for it," Oscar replied, he grabbed Floaty's wrist, "Youse owe me, and I'se want youse ta marry me."

Floaty smacked him and pushed him away, "Get out! Get out now!" She shouted and winced, Katrina woke and began shrieking and crying.

"Shut dat girl up!"

"Get out! Get out! Get out now!" Floaty shouted before she threw one of Spot's old shoes at the youngest Delancey. He charged at her and sent his fist flying. She ducked and kicked his ankle and looked around for a weapon. Were the newsies home? What about the owner of the Lodging House? Only one way to know for certain.

"Help!" Floaty screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Shut up!" Oscar screamed as he shoved her so harshly she fell to the floor. Before Floaty could stand he lunged at her and grabbed her blouse.

"No, get off of me!" Floaty shouted, as she kneed him in the groin. The Delancey moaned in pain and curled on the floor.

Floaty used the moment of safety to grab hold of a newsie's slingshot. She looked around for something, _anything_ she could use as a weapon. Fear made her move fast, her mind raced with thoughts, her heart pounded wildly. She never strayed too far from the crib, if the Delancey were to stand and try to grab Katrina she'd be close enough to stop him. After a minute of searching she found a few marbles. Oscar began to roll onto his other side, she kicked him in the stomach.

"Stay back, I'm warning you!"

He stared at the slingshot and his eyebrow raised, "Oh what will dat do, maybe make me jump?"

Floaty swallowed, "Oh, you'll be jumping all right," she replied as she aimed it as his crotch.

Oscar swallowed and glanced at the crib. Floaty followed his gaze and turned to look at Katrina. Her face was bright red, she was shrieking and small tears were falling from her shut eyes. She realized she had been tricked when Oscar grabbed hold of her and smacked her forehead fiercely into one of the wooden posts that held up a bunk bed. She screamed in pain, he didn't stop his attack.

He turned her around and back handed her, when she tried to raise her arms he easily held her wrists in one hand long enough to press her against a wall. She screamed and cried, he slapped her and undid his belt.

"This coulda been easy, all youse had to do was say yes," he growled. Being so close to him, Floaty realized he was drunk. That was the reason why he was going after her!

Floaty and every other person (including Morris) all knew Morris hated Floaty and did his best to stay far from her. Obviously the alcohol was giving him the drunken courage to do what he wanted to do most.

"Please...Stop," she exclaimed, her voice shaking.

He grunted and pulled his belt off his pants then coiled the belt around each of her wrists and tied it tightly. Floaty screamed again, he yelled at her to shut up once again before he grabbed a sock off a bed and tied it around her head. He backed a few steps away to admire his handy work, terrifying smile went over his face.

Floaty spat out the disgusting gag and ran off, she tried to hide under a bed, but he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her into the open. She balled her fists and sent them both flying onto his foot which caused him to howl out in pain. She crawled far enough away and managed to wiggle her wrists and hands out of the belt. Her wrists were chafed and rubbed raw. A moment later something hard hit her on the back of head. Small and large stars all the colors of the rainbow floated in front of her eyes for a moment began she began to sink into an inky blackness. Her last thoughts were of protecting Katrina and praying her husband would soon return....

Oscar stared down at Floaty, "Get up!" He growled as he kicked her on the side, "Get up, now, Floaty!"

When she continued to lie still he knew something was wrong, though his drunken and hazed mind didn't seem to register the fact the problem was severe. He continued to yell at her, the brat in the crib continued to scream and cry. Then he saw a deep pool of red blood forming around the back of her head. He hadn't noticed it before because of her bright and curly red hair.

"Shit," he cursed before seeing her chest rise and fall a few times. The lodging house's front door opened and shut. He had to finish what he started and quickly. He grabbed his pocket knife from his belt and quickly stabbed it through her chest. He threw it outside the open window and climbed out onto the fire escape. He glanced back inside, Floaty's sprawled body lied on the floor, her lifeless brown eyes staring at the ceiling. Spot's cane lied right above her head, its silver tip coated with her blood. He smirked, good everyone would think it was Conlon and no one would suspect him.

He climbed quickly down the fire escape and ran, he caught a flash of Sport - Spot's second in command - but he didn't care if the kid saw him or not. No one would believe him! No one!

He was half a block away from the lodging house when he heard Spot's blood curdling scream echoing throughout the small alleyway and sent shivers up and down his spine.

---------------

Newsies from every lodging house in New York attended Floaty's funeral. The funeral was in the lodging house's back yard.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," the priest finished as he slowly and gracefully shut his bible. Sport watched him walk over to Spot and place his hand onto his shoulder.

"It will be alright son, she's in Heaven now, safe and sound."

"Thanks, Fadda," Spot replied and went back to staring at the crude pine box in front of him. The newsies had put their money together quickly for the quickly and clumsily made coffin and everyone knew Spot's wife deserved better.

"We'se gonna find who did dis ta heh Spot, and we'se will kill dem," Jack 'Cowboy' Kelly assured Spot.

"T'anks, Jacky-boy, youse can soak him, but killin' him is me job," Spot replied. The whites of his eyes were filled with small red lines from exhaustion, sadness, anger, and lack of sleep. He looked down at his cane.

"Help me bury dis, awll of youse," Spot exclaimed to Sport, Jack, Blink, Race, and Sheriff (the leader of the Bronx newsies). The small group consisted of Floaty's closest friends throughout her lifetime.

Sport grabbed a shovel and with the others help they dug a 3 foot grave for the cane. Spot placed it into wooden crate and threw it into the hole. They then covered the hole and watched as Floaty's coffin was carefully lowered into its grave. Spot turned, and for the first time the newsies saw the Brooklyn leader cry.

---------------------

3 months later the police had surrounded a small alleyway and were removing two bodies: One of a young blonde man in a black bowler hat; the other of a young man they recognized as the newsie king. The newsie had been stabbed to death, where as the man in the bowler cap had been shot.

Sport became the leader of the Brooklyn Lodging House and everything in the newsie world changed. The next strike was lost, and soon newsies were replaced by newspaper stands. Sport served in World War 1 and soon died from Pneumonia when he returned.

--------------------

Sport stared at the dimly lit room he stood in, it seemed familiar. Turning around and observing it he recognized the bunks in Spot and Floaty's room, and the empty crib in the corner of the room.

"Well, well, I'se got company," sneered a new voice.

Sport's ghost turned and stood face to face with Oscar Delancey's ghost. The two stared at each other for the longest time before Katrina Conlon entered the lodging house with her husband and left two roses in the room.

"Deys do dat every year," Oscar replied, "Dat's da last time, deys movin' ta New Jersey. Deys sold da lodgin' house ta some tight wad."

"You killed Floaty."

"Yeah," Oscar smirked, "I did, and I'se got away wid it too."

"You also killed Spot, I won't rest until everyone finds out that you murdered them."

"No one will care, time moves on kid, and guess what. We'se stuck in dis hell hole together!"

Sport sneered at him and made it his mission to find someone who would listen and set history straight.


	2. Meet Emmaline and Daniel the Gambler

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, Disney does. I own Emmaline and Floaty. I own Daniel, but not Spot. I also own Emmaline's Uncle Zane. I don't own the banshee.**_

_**2005 - **_

_"The Lodging House, Emmaline, I give it to you..." Zane McDunston, the last male in Sport's family, wheezed as he pressed two keys into his grand niece's right hand. "Find Floaty's killer."_

_"I will, Uncle Zane," 20 year old Emmaline said softly as she curled her fingers around the warm old fashioned skeleton keys. She stroked her uncle's powder white and thin hair from his sweaty forehead. Her heart began to crumble as she watched him shiver. _

_She pushed a strand of her light red hair behind her ear and her eyes blurred with tears; she turned away for a moment and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Her uncle had made her swear not to cry when this day finally came; she had promised she wouldn't cry....She had to keep that promise. She took a deep breath and forced herself to stop crying, which was hard since it had been her strong, healthy, and eccentric Uncle Zane who had raised her since her parents were killed in a car accident when she was 7._

_Her uncle's crystal blue eyes suddenly focused on the corner of the room, his hand gave hers a weak squeeze before he sighed and went still. _

_"Uncle Zane?" Emmaline questioned softly, "Uncle Zane?" She waited for a moment and checked his pulse....There wasn't a pulse. She licked her lips and knelt down beside the bed, she rested her forehead against the back of his hand. The grief, stress, and worry she had bottled inside escaped. She cried softly, loudly, but she never wailed. No, never would she wail, only Banchees could wail....It was their job to forewarn family members of a future death...She had heard a Banchee wailing outside her bedroom window a month earlier._

_------------------------------------------_

_The funeral had been practically unbearable; most of her uncle's friends had passed away years ago. Only a handful of people had arrived. Most of the attendees had been nurses, a doctor who her uncle had befriended years ago, two of his friends, and herself._

_Though the burial was sad and hard she wished her uncle a good bye. She also took on the responsibility that was passed on to the eldest McDunston children: the task of finding Floaty's killer and clearing Spot's name. This responsibility led her to the front door step of the Brooklyn Lodging House, a tall brick building situated under the Brooklyn Bridge. It barely looked different from the two brick buildings beside it. If the bricks weren't a shade darker, and the fire escape made of antique iron she would have never known this was the lodging house._

_Twisting the key into the lock and opening the door she stepped inside. She jumped out of the way as a board from the ceiling fell onto the floor in front of her._

_"Thank you Uncle Zane for leaving me the money for a full restoration," she muttered. The restoration, she knew, would wipe the account clean. As she looked around the building an idea hit her: what better way to solve a murder than to make the lodging house into a newsie museum. Descendants of newsies all had stories to share, and maybe some of the stories would provide clues._

_"I guess I better find a well paying job and fast," she grumbled._

---------------------------------

_**Modern Day**_

_**4 Years Later...**_

Daniel Conlon ran as fast as his legs and feet would carry him. His heart pounded with fear and adrenaline rushing through his veins. He jumped over a small poodle as he continued to run and scamper down the streets and alley ways of Brooklyn.

"There he is!" One of the two thugs chasing him shouted as they continued their chase.

_Shit, shit, shit!_ Daniel cursed to himself! When would he learn to stop betting and gambling?! His bookie's thugs had nearly broken his left arm a few days ago; now two enforcers from whatever-gambling-boss-he-owed-money-too were chasing after him. He was going to have a very short life expectancy if he kept this crap up.

He skidded to a halt in a narrow alley way between two brick buildings and quickly lowered into a squat. He watched his pursuers run past. After he was sure they were long gone he sighed with relief and leaned against the warm brick wall. Damn, that had been close. He was piss poor and had missed 2 months rent, his land lady had probably already boarded his apartment door shut. He reached into his jean pocket and grabbed his wallet. He groaned at only finding 20 dollars within it; that was more than nothing he supposed. He needed to get money and fast.

From where? His younger brother, Matthew, had already stopped loaning him money; his old boss no longer had sympathy for him; and a loan shark would just be adding to his short life expectancy problem. He needed to find a quick paying job.

Sighing he stood and froze as he walked out of the alley way: Leaning against a new plate of glass was a help wanted sign. He stood in front of the window and looked at the sign: Brooklyn Newsies Museum: A Museum Dedicated to the Working Kids of New York. Est. 2009.

He looked at his reflection and frowned, he looked just like his great-great grandfather, Spot Conlon. Only his face was slightly wider with a square cut jaw. The bottom portion of his face had light brown stubbles of a growing beard and mustache. His old and dirty jeans were torn, his shirt was dirty and greasy. Would the owner hire him when resembled a vagabond? Only one way to find out....

---------------------

Emmaline looked around the New Museum with pride, it was far from ready to opened yet but it was getting there. Maybe a 3 to 5 days more then it would open its doors to the public for the first time. She looked at the display cases, which held old newspapers from the World, The Sun, and the New York Journal. The display cases across the other side of the room held Spot and Floaty Conlon's caps (which had been donated by their great-great grandson Matthew); 2 old slingshots; jax; and other historical items.

The bell above the door rang and Emmaline jumped slightly. A man around her age walked into the museum, her nose curled at the stench of perspiration and what smelled like old motor oil.

"Hi, I'se heah youse hirin'?"

"I am," She replied and forced herself not to give the many any funny looks. Though when he got nearer she couldn't stop her nose from scrunching.

"I'se need a job and a place to stay...."

"Well this job comes with room and boarding as well," Emmaline replied as she coughed into her fist. She couldn't hide from the smell forever, she ended her 'coughing fit' and looked up at the man. Her eyebrows arched upwards, he looked almost just like Spot Conlon.

"Great....Will ya hire me?"

Emmaline blinked, that question had been urgent and from out of the blue.

"I ah...Well-"

"Please?" He asked his eyes wide, he manipulated his face to resemble one of a scared and innocent child.

Emmaline felt her heart nearly rip in half, the man needed work and a place to stay. Yet by his rugged appearance, shirt soaked with sweat, and the fear shining in his ocean blue eyes she gathered he was running from someone.

"Are you running from some kind of trouble?" She questioned, she didn't want to be involved with the wrong side of the law. Her younger brother, Samuel, had been a small time drug dealer. It wasn't until recently the police arrested him for a strand of murders around Brooklyn.

"Trouble? What would make youse think dat?" He questioned as he scratched the back of his neck.

"Well, first of all by your appearance, and please excuse me for pointing out the obvious, but the stench. However, your eyes are extremely expressive, and when I mentioned trouble you became uncomfortable, I'm not a dumb woman....Mr...."

"Daniel Conlon, Spot Conlon's great-great-great grandson."

Emmaline paused at hearing this; she glanced over at the display case containing Spot and Floaty's caps. The owner of the caps had mentioned his older brother who was always in some sort of trouble.

"Da hats...So youse talked to me younger brother," he paused, "Listen, I'se will admit I'm in trouble in a lot. I'se will never bring it to your doorstep, I'se swear."

"What got you into trouble?"

Daniel sighed, "Gamblin'..."

"Gambling? Gamblers swear, vow, and promise all the time..." Emmaline shook her head, "No...I'm sorry."

"_Please_. They're going to kill me and me apartments been boarded up, and I'se got is twenty bucks and da clothes on me back," Daniel exclaimed. "Please. My _**life**_ depends on it."

Emmaline sighed and looked Daniel up and down, he was a few inches taller than herself. His sandy brown hair was messy, probably from the run. However, when her eyes reached his a shiver went up and down her spine and without realizing what she was saying she exclaimed, "Alright, you're hired."

--------------------

She had hired him! Daniel wanted to do an Irish jig he was so happy, but he couldn't dance to save his life. After hiring him she had given him a tour of the Lodging House, but had refused to go into Spot and Floaty's old room. Even when he attempted to coax her inside she refused. For some reason she was terrified of it.

The lodging house had an odd feel about it. He always felt like someone was watching him, especially on the second level. When he agreed to do the cleaning in Spot and Floaty's room he realized he had made a mistake. The feeling of being watched _doubled_. He had looked all around the room and yet there had been no one.

Emmaline had brought him up to the third level of the Lodging House. Which was the living quarters for herself and him. She had let be known to him she would keep her bedroom door locked until and if he ever gained her trust. Then she had left to kindly buy him a few pairs of clothing. She also used the kind deed as a way to make him pay her back (she would be docking pay from his future pay checks). As if that weren't enough she took his wallet.

"If you want it back," she had exclaimed, "You're going to have to earn it back: No gambling of any kind, no betting, no daring, nothing."

He had argued that she was only his boss.

"And your land lady, I could say sleep on the streets, but I'm not. You working for me means I have to help ya. So let's get off to a good start here and try to get along. Truce?"

He had agreed, though he was still sore about her taking his wallet without his consent. He shrugged into the comfortable clothing she had bought him. Her taste was alright, however as soon as he earned enough he was buying himself new clothing. A shout from the alley way and two men running through quickly reminded him his paychecks were going to have to pay for his life.

The hairs on back of his neck began to raise, as he stared out the window he felt that feeling again, like someone was watching him. He spun around, the room was bare.

"Hey Emmaline, did you just pass by my room?" He questioned when he walked into the kitchen.

She was over an oven cooking them dinner: meatloaf. It was the oddest sensation: he felt as if this was right, living with her, being so close to her....Almost as if it had happened before. He shrugged the feeling off, he was just grateful to her for saving him from those two thugs, that was all.

"No...That wasn't me, I told you the ghost stories," She replied, "Dinner will be ready in 10 minutes, tomorrow you cook."

----------------------------------

Sport stood in the kitchen with Daniel and Emmaline. Happiness swelled through him: Spot and Floaty were back. But, they didn't remember anything of their past lives. He frowned, this wasn't good since Floaty's killer lived in their old room. Though Emmaline didn't physically remember Oscar her spirit remembered him and the room its body died in years ago.

Emmaline had been living in the Lodging House for 2 years now. During the renovations she had visited. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, history was going to repeat itself if his message of warning didn't go through the two.

He glanced back at the room where Oscar was stuck in. It was only a matter of time that Emmaline's fear of the room would give him enough energy to leave the room and go after her. If that happened he could protect for her a little while, but not for long. Oscar's spirit was strong from the hate, rage, and obession towards Floaty. He hated her for marrying spot, was angry at her for rejecting him, and was obsessed with her for whatever reason in his screwed up mind.

Daniel kept glancing over his shoulder and Emmaline shifted a few times, other than that they ignored him. If they continued to do so he'd have to do more than stare at the two, he'd have to starting acting out. Throw things, make noises, maybe write a message one day on a steamed mirror.

A loud bang from Spot and Floaty's room caused Emmaline to jump and curl in on herself. No, she was giving Oscar more energy. Sport walked over and leaned down, _It's okay, he won't hurt you._ He whispered in her ear, although she didn't hear him she visibly calmed. The oven began beeping and Oscar began laughing. Sport knew time was running out.


	3. 1st Flashback & Nadeline & Ghost Trouble

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, Disney does. I own Floaty, Emmaline, Daniel, Natalie, and Nadeline.**_

_**(A/N: Beautiful-Surreal, there's a few more chapters to the story. :) to quote the old saying, "Everything is not what it seems.")**_

_"So, how long have ya been Pulitzer's messengah for?" Spot Conlon questioned. _

_Floaty's heart raced and her stomach twisted. The great leader of Brooklyn was only supposed to speak to other newsies, he was rumored to hate every other World employee. She pushed a strand of hair out of her face and looked around the small street, Sycamore Street, and back at Spot. _

_"Since I was 17...My first employment was as a Chimney-Sweep girl. Then after my father died, a newsgirl, now a messenger...For Mr. Pulitzer..." She winced and waited for the newsboy's reaction. He paused and stared at her as if taken aback. His sky blue eyes didn't reveal his thoughts or emotions._

_He smirked, "He pay ya well?"_

_"A penny per delivering messages. Two pennies for returning messages to him, I also get to keep any tips I might make."_

_"Tips?"_

_"When a person wants a message delivered to Mr. Pulitzer without delay they pay me extra, never an exact price," she shrugged._

_"Youse should set a price."_

_"No, that would be selling myself out. I'm not a Lady of the Night," Floaty replied as anger began to seep its way throughout her body. _

_"Puttin' down prices don't make youse a whore."_

_"Trust me, in Pulitzer's world...It does," she replied, "I have to go."_

_"Wait," he reached out and grabbed her hand, "Youse never told me youse name."_

_"You didn't ask, and I thought you knew."_

_"I'se don't know it...Mine's-"_

_"Spot, I know," she replied and paused, "Ask the other newsies 'whose the World Messenger Girl?' and see what they say."_

The alarm clock loudly blared in Daniel's left ear causing him to jump from his dream. After a minute of letting his heart rate return to normal he glanced at the loud nuisance of a clock. He had put that damned thing into the hallway before going to sleep! There was only one explanation: Emmaline.

"That woman's a damned pest," he growled to himself as he threw the covers off and sat up. Rubbing his hands over his face he mulled over the odd dream again. The dream wasn't the only one he'd ever had in his lifetime. Since he was little he had odd dreams about his great-great-great grandfather...But strangely it was always from Floaty's point of view.

He pulled his shirt and jeans on, finger combed his hair, and walked barefoot out of the room. His bedroom was directly across from Emmaline's; between the two rooms lied a moderate sized living room; a small kitchen lied to the right of the living room; and the bathroom was located between Emmaline's room and the storage closet.

He could hear the shower running from the bathroom, however someone was at the small square kitchen table.

"Ah....Hello," he greeted.

The girl sitting in the left hand kitchen chair looked up at him. Her face was round, her blue eyes deep set, and her nose was the most prominent feature of her face. She had bleached her hair blonde and wore it in a high pony tail, which made her look more like a 1980's porn star than the little diva she was trying to be. Her corn yellow crop top with three large black buttons on it instantly reminded him of a rodeo clown. Her denim blue Daisy Dukes (which she had cut to make even shorter) and fishnet black tights screamed: _hooker_. Her make up looked as if it had been caked on instead of applied.

"Hello," she exclaimed. Her attempt to make her voice low and sultry backfired on her. It sounded more like a smoker's wheeze than a sexy greeting.

"Ah...Who ah youse?" He questioned as he fought back the laughter that bubbled in his throat.

"Nadeline, though everyone calls me Nat," she replied as she sucked in her cheeks and batted her lashes. Daniel once again held back his laughter. Now he was being 'seduced' by a fish. A clown fish at that.

"Well, Na-"

"No...No...You see," she reached for his hand and he quickly pulled it away; she blinked before continuing, "I pronounce it Nay-dell-eene."

"Nadeline Rathers!" Emmaline shouted as she walked out of the bathroom fully clothed. Her hands were encased in yellow dish gloves; in her right hand she carried a plastic and nylon scrubbing brush, in her left an empty bottle of Clorox.

The girl jumped and quickly sat down.

"I turn my back for five minutes and you go back to dressing like that!"

"Ah...It's not big deal, Ms. Emma," she exclaimed with a roll of her eyes.

"Tell Daniel how old you are," Emmaline demanded as she pointed the brush at the girl.

"Uh...How about no," she replied.

Emmaline walked over and towered over the blonde. She stared down at the girl.

"I understand I'm beautiful, but it's like disturbing to have you so totally _hovering_ over me! Hello! Personal space!"

Emmaline didn't budge.

"I'm going now," the girl pouted as she stood, Emmaline's hand landed on her shoulder and pushed her back into the chair.

"Now you look at me," Emmaline exclaimed, "I told you the moment your mother dropped you on my doorstep this morning that you have to go by my rules."

The girl stared up at Emmaline before finally grumbling, "I just turned 15 yesterday."

Daniel stared at her, he had known she was young but _this_ young? He frowned at Nadeline and figured she must have always been in trouble with her parents, hell maybe even the law at this point.

"Now for proper introductions," Emmaline exclaimed, "Daniel meet Nadeline. Nadeline lives in the apartment complex beside our building. Sometimes before leaving to work her mother leaves her here."

Daniel could see why, what adult would want to be around that brat?

Emmaline walked over to a backpack on the kitchen counter and threw Nadeline a t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

"I won't wear these," Nadeline growled, "I will not be caught dead in them. Do you understand me?"

Emmaline crossed her arms. Daniel winced knowing there was going to be trouble. He glanced at the 15 year old and wondered how some teenagers could turn out to be such spoiled and rotten brats.

-----------------------------------------

Sport groaned to himself. How could he have been so mistaken? When souls were reincarnated they didn't always return as their previous body's gender. For years he had been certain Emmaline was Floaty, until Daniel was in the building to witness Nadeline's melt down. It was then he saw how completely wrong he was. Emmaline was Spot, and Daniel was Floaty.

Oscar snickered from behind Sport, "I'se still can't believe youse thought I'se am obsessed wid Floaty."

"You are," Sport sneered.

"Far from it," Oscar replied, "Da only reason I'se came to offer her a new life was because Pulitzer knew heh. I marry her den I got a higher payin' position. As soon as I had enough money I'd have dumped her somewhere and found meself someone pretty."

"Then what's all this obsession with seeing her again? This talk of killing her?" Sport questioned, not letting his guard down. He remembered hearing Oscar's vow 50 years ago, that each time Floaty's soul returned he'd kill the body it lived in.

"She embarrassed me! Treated me like trash aftah I'se saved her damned life! I'se got dat enough from Cowboy, I'se didn't need it from a sniveling messenger goil too."

"She embarrassed you in front of a baby, so you want to kill her for that?" Sport was flabbergasted. Oscar's pride had been wounded and he was willing to kill because of that? The same words which echoed through his head each minute, and day he was stuck with Oscar repeated themselves in his mind: _What a complete, utter, asshole._

"Cause dat goil insulted me when I'se offered her somethin' good. It ain't a woman's place to insult anyone. She needs to die again, and each time she comes back in no matter how many new bodies, or whatever gender, I'll keep killin' heh each time." The Delancey snarled.

--------------------------------------------------------------

It was nearly noon by the time Nadeline's father arrived to pick her up and return home with her. Emmaline was glad, all that brat had done was scream, pout, and complain. Emmaline should have patted herself on the back after each of that girl's visits. She never let down her guard, she was strict, and refused to let the little teenager have her own way.

"Hey Hurricane Nadeline is gone!" Daniel commented as he walked back into the apartment. His old T-shirt was splattered with paint.

"Yes and thank God," Emmaline replied, "After next week that brat is staying with her older sister Natalie."

"Natalie and Nadeline, don't deys parents ever confuse them?" Daniel questioned.

"All the time," Emmaline replied, "But Nadeline worships the ground Natalie walks on....So hopefully she'll have her straightened out before summer's end. So how does the museum look?"

"Eh."

"Eh?" She questioned. When given no other explanation she climbed quickly down the stairs and looked around the lobby. She wanted to scream. In a full four damned hours he had only painted one tiny little wall.

"Daniel Conlon! Get your ass down here! Do you remember the contract you signed last night? Down here now or I'll personally go to each of your bookies' doorsteps and tell them exactly where you are!" She shouted.

A minute later he appeared in the doorway pale as a ghost, "Somethin' up dere jist threw a plate at me!"

Emmaline stared wide eyed at him, "If that's just a story-" she was interrupted by a blank picture frame flying past her. "Shit!" She caught it and growled, "This is my Lodging House now! Get the hell out!"

The activity stopped for a moment but soon began again. The bell above the door wouldn't stop ringing, the lights flicked on and off constantly, and sometimes the curtains would move. After a few minutes the ghost obviously had exhausted itself and stopped its antics.

"I'll damned well tell you where that things living!" Emmaline growled.

"Where?" Daniel asked. He was visibly shaking.

"In Conlon's old room," she replied, "I hate that room."

"Mind tellin me why?"

"Yes...But perhaps it will help to let it out. I can't go into that room because I'm terrified of what I'll see."

"It's just a room, dere ain't nothin in it," Daniel replied, though he looked a little nervous as the current topic as well.

"Not physically," Emmaline replied softly, "When I walked in there the first time Floaty Conlon's body was lying sprawled on the floor. She was bleeding from the back of her head and her chest, since then I've had odd dreams."

"I'se always had weird dreams, dough in mine I'se...Nothin'."

"You're what? C'mon, tell me," Emmaline insisted.

"It ain't nothin'," Daniel replied, "I'll finish paintin' and do a good job. I'se will do even bettah if youse buy me a cross."


	4. Emmaline's Dreams &Gambling Debts Repaid

_**Disclaimer: I do not own newsies or any of its characters. I own Floaty, Emmaline, and Racetrack's henchman, Blade. **_

_**(A/N: Beautiful-Surreal, glad you're liking it so far. :D)**_

_-----------------------------_

Three days later Emmaline and Daniel were putting shadow boxes and picture frames back onto the walls they had painted two days before. Outside the weather was dreary; it had been raining for nearly two days straight and Emmaline secretly was about to go out of her mind. She and her uncle had lived in Florida until she was 14. But her uncle had grown tired of the hot and tropical weather; in turn she had gotten sick of the sun showers and constant late-afternoon summer thunderstorms.

"Looks dreary out dere," Daniel commented as he knocked on the wall until he found a stud. He gently hammered a nail into the wall and Emmaline handed him a shadow box containing Morris Delancey's brass knuckles and Oscar's bowler cap with a red feather tucked in its brim. Under the two pieces of memorabilia was a picture of the two brothers. Morris was sitting on the gate in front of the old Distrubution Center (which had been torn down in the early '40s after being used as a warehouse); Oscar was leaning against the gate and giving a threatning look into the camera lens.

Emmaline, for some odd reason, hated the two men in the photograph and their personal possessions. When an elderly man had donated them she found herself putting the historical items into the trash can. She quickly retrieved and framed them before she could make that mistake again. She glanced over at Daniel, he was staring at Oscar's face as the man was the Devil himself.

"Daniel?" She took his shoulder and gave a hard shake, "Hey!"

"Huh? What?!" He blinked and snapped out of his daze. He shook his head and looked at her as if she had just announced she was an alien from the planet Bubba-La-Doo.

"I was about to call NASA to retrieve you," she replied, "You were really out there."

"Huh, don't know why," he shrugged then hung the shadow box up. Emmaline watched him practically run from the shadow box. She shrugged in confusion and straightened the frame. This lodging house was so odd and so strange. Since the moment she had first walked into the building shivers traveled up and down her spine. Since that moment she began having odd dreams....Ones that seemed more like repressed memories. The dreams were weird, in them she was a young newsboy who was deeply in love with a messenger girl.

She looked over to see Daniel had put a display case back. She grabbed a cloth and began to clean fingerprints off the glass, as she did she recalled the vivid dream from last night. In her dream she was the newsboy, she was sitting up on a small piling out on the Brooklyn docks. A newsboy dressed as a cowboy (she recognized him as Jack Kelly from the newspaper photograph) was coming down the dock with two other newsies: David Jacobs and Boots. They talked about the strike, the one the newsies had won in 1899, only in her dream it was being planned. Halfway through the discussion loud clunks on the old wooden planks echoed loudly around. She remembered looking up and feeling intrigued, as if she were about to win a mind game, or solve a mystery.

The messenger girl looked just like Floaty, the dream ended when she opened her mouth to say something.

"Hey, when's me day off?"

Emmaline looked over at Daniel and raised an eyebrow, "You just started working here the other day."

"Yeah? So? I'se get a day off."

Emmaline glared at him.

"Well?" He placed his hands on his hips and looked out the front window.

"Sunday is our day off," Emmaline replied, "I'm still working out the schedule. If you'd actually listen instead of watching football or having your head stuck in that damned mp3 player of yours the schedule would be finished by now."

Daniel mimicked a cat shriek and splayed his fingers of both hands then bent them at the knuckles, "Raaaaar!" He mimicked the second shriek with a hiss.

"You want a job and a roof over your head?"

"Yeah."

"Then stop being an asshole," Emmaline replied.

"What work do have ta do, Emmaline? Dat foist display case is back, da oddas will be back in their places soon enough." He crossed his arms and his face resembled one of a petulant child.

"Where do you want to go off in weather like this?" She snapped, "All it's doing is rain, rain, rain."

"To a friend's," he replied.

"Oh, your bookie," Emmaline replied.

"Youse gave me me foist paycheck, it has ta go ta Racetrack Higgins first of all! His damned muscle nearly killed me da other day!" Daniel exclaimed.

Emmaline stared at him and crossed her arms. The weather outside was cruddy and she had to admit it was affecting her attitude. Plus Daniel was getting on her nerves, being stuck with him all the time was starting to get tiring. At the same time she found herself enjoying his company; although he was annoying at times there was just something about him that _made_ her like him. She had to admit, there was a vast number of good qualities about him; he was friendly to curious tourists and visitors who questioned about the museum's grand opening. He had smiled and told them the museum would be open for business that upcoming Monday. He did his work without complaint, and from what she had seen he hadn't tried to steal his wallet back from her.

"Alright," Emmaline replied, "How much do you owe him?"

"Youse gonna pay it back?"

"Well, considering you're my only employee and the other person who'd take the job I can't afford to lose you," she replied unable to keep herself from cracking a smile.

"Uhh...Youse ain't gonna like dis," Daniel replied as he shuffled his feet and scratched the back of his head. Emmaline's eyebrow rose, if he kept that shuffling up he was going to shock himself.

"Spit it out."

"Three thousand dollars..."

_"THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS?!"_ Emmaline found herself falling to the floor on her behind. _THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS._ She didn't earn a thousand dollars yet alone THREE thousand!

Daniel winced, "I'se owe Tiny -"

"I don't want to hear it," Emmaline replied as she stuck out her hand. She had no guarantee that he wouldn't run once she paid off the bookie. If she paid it she'd still have her employee, until another bookie's men found him. If she _didn't_ give him the money....An idea struck her.

"What's dat look?" He questioned as he sat beside her.

"What's Racetrack's real name?"

"Anthony, supposedly," he shrugged.

"He know Tiny?"

"Yeah, deys bruddas," he replied.

Emmaline looked at him, stunned. She had a feeling that _only_ Daniel could get himself into this must shit with a family of bookies.

"I think I have a way to make them both happy, while insuring you won't take my money and run."

"I'se wouldn't do dat," he replied with a frown.

"I've only known you for nearly four days now. Trust, real trust, takes longer than that to earn, Daniel. Up you go."

"What are we'se gonna do?"

"You mean what am _I_ going to do? I'm going to make a deal with them." Emmaline replied with a smile, she ran upstairs and grabbed her purse from her nightstand. She scooped up her car keys and climbed downstairs, "Come along then," she exclaimed as she exited the building.

------------------------------------

Anthony 'Racetrack' Higgins was far from intimidating, but his bodyguard (a tall muscular bald man with a large gauge in his left ear and tattoos covering his arms) seemed to be a master of the art.

Emmaline didn't keep her head too high. If she looks snoddy and pristine he'd laugh her off. If she kept her head too low she'd give the air no confidence. Holding her head just in middle and standing her ground gave off a perfect air: confidence without cockyness.

"Well, well, if it ain't Conlon," Racetrack seemed to drawl out. He was a short Italian man who looked more like a young teenager than an adult man. Emmaline assumed that one of his parents was Irish due to his last name.

"Racetrack," Daniel muttered, he seemed to be curling into himself. Emmaline nudged him gently, more to help calm him down than to stop him from being afraid.

"And youse I'se am not familiar wid....A friend of his perhaps?" The bookie questioned as he stood and extended his hand.

"His employer," Emmaline replied, "Emmaline McDunston."

"I'se supposed to know da name?" Racetrack questioned as he cocked his head to the left.

"I was introducing myself," she replied, he poked his hand out once again, she reluctantly shook it.

"Here ta place a bet?"

"No, I was actually here to talk to you about the debt Mr. Conlon owes you and your brother. Five thousand dollars in total?"

"With interest," the bookie replied as he sat down in his secretarial chair. Behind him the tattooed man shifted his weight onto another giant leg. The occupied room stunk like cigar smoke; the walls were a grayish color and paint was chipping off. Above them a ceiling fan gave a loud metallic grinding sound each time it circulated.

"I'll pay you 200 dollars now to cover the interest."

"It's more dan dat, sweetheart," he gave a sardonic smirk.

"I have Floaty Conlon's journal," she replied, "And I've made copies of pages that speak of your great-great-great-great grandfather...Priceless information since you all know nothing about him. He actually had a larger part in the newsie strike than people gave him credit for."

"So? I'se don't care."

"You don't care? Alright then, I guess you don't care to know about your grandmother either. Daniel, we tried, let's go." She turned and Daniel looked flabbergasted, she nodded at him to follow her. Almost steps from the exit of the seaside warehouse Racetrack called them back.

"We'se don't know anythin' bout our grandmother," he frowned, his left hand held a cell phone to his ear. "Dat information...Is priceless."

"Yeah, it is," Emmaline agreed, "I'll make you a deal, I'll show you the real diary and give you the copies. In return Daniel will pay back his debt to you once each month. Half of the money he earns will be given to you on the 28th of each month."

"Deal-"

"I'm not finished," Emmaline replied, "This information covers _**all**_ interest due."

Racetrack did a double take, "No way in He-"

Emmaline took out the scans and threatened to rip them apart. The bookie quickly shut his mouth.

"As I was saying, at the 28th of each month you will be paid. You or your man will meet him and I in front of Tibby's in Manhattan. You both will shake hands and laugh, act like old friends bumping into each other, in that handshake Mr. Conlon will slip the money to you. And there is one more requirement."

"Now what?" The bookie growled.

"If he _ever_ places a bet with you, your brother, or a bookie you know...You let me know and it's me he'll be running from." Emmaline replied.

Racetrack smirked, "Agreed," he glanced at Daniel, "Hell, Danny-Boy, even Blade over here couldn't scare ya like dis. Next time youse piss me off, I'se sendin' youse to heh." He turned to Emmaline, "Can I'se hire youse?"  
"No," she replied in a matter-of-fact tone. She reached into her purse and opened a large ziplock bag. She took Floaty's journal out and unwrapped the cloth from it. She allowed him to open the cover and look carefully through it. When he was satisified she gave him the copies. She wrapped the book up again and placed it back into its bag and then her purse. As the two walked out Emmaline heard Racetrack mutter 'helluva woman he's got dere. Lucky bastard.'

Once outside Daniel hugged her, "Thank youse!"

"Don't ever expect that again," Emmaline replied as she gave him a quick hug back, then checked the contents of her purse.

"Hey! I'se ain't gonna steal from you! Won't youse trust me?"

"I make a rule not to trust anyone until they've given me a good reason too, Daniel. Now come on, before it starts raining again. How does pizza sound to you?" Emmaline questioned.


	5. Sport's Ghost & The Past Retuns

_**Disclaimer: I do not own newsies or any of its characters, Disney does. I own Floaty, Emmaline, and Daniel and Sport. I do not own the actor mentioned later in this chapter. Alley and Sheriff belong to Lilyanatos.**_

_She was always in trouble, always. During the strike she had been running from her uncle's men, until her uncle (a powerful gangster named Trench) was arrested and thrown into jail. Then it was Oscar and Morris wanting their favor repaid. Wherever his girlfriend went there seemed to be trouble. But how could Spot judge her?_

_He watched his newsboys jump into the harbor's bay. His eye sight landed on his second in command, Sport. The newsboy was teaching a younger boy how to swim. He recalled Sport's wise words, "Floaty ain't a trouble maker, Spot, youse know dat. If anythin' she tries ta avoid it - but knowin da life she's led....I'se mean havin' a gangster for an uncle and having youse name tied to __that__ ain't an easy thing. She's like other people, she don't go looking for trouble....It goes lookin' for her. Youse just gotta see past that. Only then will you truly love her."_

_"Spot!"_

_He looked down to see Floaty standing on the dock below him. His heart melted when he saw her smile, a simple stretch of the lips. Not an open mouthed smile, or the kind of smile models in the papes gave, just a small, sweet, and almost innocent smile. _

_"Heya, Floats," he greeted, "How's it rollin'?" _

_"It's goin'," she replied, "I'm actually here for Alley, but I wanted to say hi before we both left."_

_"Leave? To where?" This was news to him, where was she going with the girl who was a sister to him?_

_"Not far, just to the Bronx. Sheriff really needs some support right now, and quit worrying I'm not going to get myself into any kind of trouble," she smiled before Alley joined her. The brunette looked up at him, smiled and waved, then walked off with his girlfriend. He watched the two until they left his viewpoint and sighed._

_"It ain't youse lookin' for trouble that I'se worried about," he muttered to himself, "Kentucky, Nails, get ovah here!"_

Emmaline bolted up in bed, her heart pounded and her fingers clutched her bed sheets.

"I thought those dreams were over," she whispered to herself before rubbing her eyes and glancing at the clock, it was only a little past 3 AM. She groaned and hated her dreams. Secretly, all her life, she had these dreams. Though they were never vivid, not like that. They came in tiny flahses. In one dream she was looking at her reflection. Instead of seeing her reflection she saw a short Irish boy with icy eyes, and sandy light brown hair. His cap had been too large for his head, and he wore a cane through his belt loop.

The dreams had come to a sudden end after her parents' deaths. For the next year all she could dream about was her parents calling out to her from the grave. Her uncle decided it was time too move, when they did the nightmares ceased, as did the odd dreams. Then, when the lodging house was restored, they started to slowly return to her. In each dream she was the short boy who was head over heels for a small red haired girl who was constantly in trouble. She had known about Spot and Floaty, since her Uncle Zane always talked about them, but it wasn't until she saw their pictures she nearly had a heart attack. The boy in her dreams was Spot Conlon, the newsie King of Brooklyn himself.

Emmaline groaned and knew she wouldn't be getting back to sleep anytime soon. Sighing she grabbed her blue nylon robe, which was hanging over her bedroom chair, and shrugged it onto her shoulders. She tied the smooth black belt around her waist and walked out of her room and was given another surprise. Her hand slapped over her mouth as she attempted not to scream.

Standing not even 2 feet away from her was the boy named Sport from her dream. Only he wasn't the younger version in her dream, he was tall and older. He resembled David Krumholtz, only his hair was slightly shorter and a shade lighter. He was wearing the dress uniform of a World War I soldier. His dark brown eyes stared into hers, then he opened his mouth.

_"Tell him to go away. Get her out." _

The spirit then vanished into thin air. She hadn't realized she was screaming until Daniel ran out of his room in an over shirt and his boxer shorts. His eyes were wide, his hair frazzled, and his face startled.

"What is it? What's wrong?!"

"Gh-Ghost...I saw one....Oh God..." Emmaline stared at Daniel before she began crying. She had to be losing her mind, she had to be!

----------------------------------------------------

Emmaline seemed to him, from the first day he met her, to be an extremley strong person. Over the course of the last few days she had proven herself over and over again to him. She was without any doubt the strongest woman he had ever met and probably would ever meet. To see her standing in her bedroom doorway shrieking and to find her babbling about the ghosts was shocking. But for her to break down in front him in tears was something he never would have expected in his entire life.

"Emmaline?" He asked softly as he walked towards her. He was unsure of what to do, but something in him....Something, he wasn't sure what knew what to do. It was as if there was another person inside of him who was being torn apart at the spectacle before him. The person or feeling knew exactly what it was doing, he wrapped his arms around her in a supportive hug. She turned into him, still in tears, and hugged him close. Something about this...Felt so right. So...Very....Very....Right.

He led her over to the small sofa in middle of the living room and sat down with her. He rubbed her back and waited until she stopped crying.

"Can you tell me what happened?" He asked softly.

She swallowed, nodded, a pushed a strand of hair behind her shoulder.

"I had this odd dream...I...." she paused, "I dreamt I was Spot Conlon and was in love with Floaty. I've had these dreams since I was a kid, but after my parents were killed in a car accident....The dreams stopped. Then when I inherited the lodging house from my Uncle Zane and I first walked in here a flash came back to me. In it I was the same boy, Spot, and I was walking inside...I was so happy, so, so happy. And I didn't know it at the time but I was retracing his footsteps, I climbed the stairs...They were actually very pretty in the flashback...I guess I can call it that....But...Then I walked up into Spot's room and opened the door....Floaty's body was lying in middle of the floor....I didn't know where I was until Michelle ran upstairs and asked me what was wrong. That's how we became friends."

"Wow..."

"Yeah, but, back to modern day now...Anyway I dreamed I was Spot again only this time I was sitting on the docks....And on top of a small piling, it's still there in fact that same piling..." She shook her head. Daniel could tell she was having trouble organizing her thoughts.

She took a shaky breath, "But he was watching this kid named Sport, in the dream he was his second in command and my great-great-great grandfather...I'm not sure if he was that 'great,' I'm terrible at math," she laughed a little, then continued. "Then I woke up and couldn't fall back to sleep so I opened my bedroom door and there's Sport. He was _glowing_. But he wasn't a newsboy, he was a grown man and in a World War I dress uniform - you know the one with the slacks and hat and all - and he said 'Tell him to go away. Get her out.' And...I'm the only _her_ in this lodging house."

Daniel listened to her and stopped rubbing her back, "I'se gotta confession to make. Youse ain't da only one wid weird dreams."

-------------------------------------

"What?"

"I'se had dem too since I'se was a kid," he shrugged, "Only in dem, I'se was Floaty." He paused, "Youse know how youse afraid of dat room? I'se....Ain't terrified of it, but I'm scared of it. And I know dat if I'se don't go in dere like I'se said I'se would, I'll be lettin' dese ghosts get what dey want..."

"Wait a minute..." Emmaline whispered.

Daniel swallowed and the two stared at each other.

"I'm dreaming that I was _him_," she said softly.

"And I'm dreamin' I'se was _her_," Daniel finished.

The two paused for a moment.

"Couldn't be..." Emmaline muttered, "It's not rational..."

Daniel snorted, "What about life _is_ rational?"

The two paused and looked at each other.

"One way to find out," Emmaline replied..."Let me know how you feel when I say this. This is a direct quote from one of my dreams."

"Alright," Daniel nodded, "Ready."

_"Brooklyn will be heah 'til da end of time, and we'se will always be a piece of dat history."_ Emmaline coughed and cleared her throat.

Daniel jerked.

"Daniel?"  
"Yeah?" He replied, "Damn....Dat....Dat got a reaction all right....For a moment da room...It _changed_. It was da way it was in 1899, dere wasn't a couch heah, but dere was an old chair wid stuffing comin' out of it. Youse were Spot and I'se was Floaty, we'se were talking to each other...And youse handed me a watch..."

Sport was half way between cheering and screaming. It was good they were finally finding out and accepting who they used to be. Maybe Emmaline would begin to trust someone now? But they had the worst timing, Oscar was more powerful than ever before. He had left Spot and Floaty's old room twice tonight alone. Although his spirit was exhausted from leaving the barrier it would only be a matter of time before he was strong enough to leave the room without any repercussions.

He watched the two for a moment longer. He hadn't meant to scare Emmaline so badly, but he had to get them out there, Daniel mainly. But the two looked so involved with this new mystery before them he knew he was going to have to help them alone. He walked beside Emmaline's room and hit the baseboard as hard as he could. _Come on Spot, remember. _He thought to himself.

Sport turned and smiled when Emmaline jolted and looked up in his direction. For a moment Spot's spirit shined through. The newsboy leader's spirit was still alive and strong through her; his eyes were filled with a new found courage and passion. Sport beamed when he heard the spirit whisper to him, _"Heya Sport. It's nice ta be home..."_ Then the spirit of his best friend vanished back into Emmaline's body.

Then to follow the suit Daniel looked up. Floaty's spirit flashed in front of Sport only for a moment, but he heard the words, _"Missed you..."_ before it too vanished.

"I missed you both too....But you need to go..." He whispered and wished he knew if the two spirits had heard him.

-----------------------

"Sport must have knocked it open," Emmaline muttered a few minutes later as she pried the lose baseboard from the wall. A golden heart shaped pocket watch tumbled into her hand with an inscription on back: _For Floaty, the only love in my life. Love Forever, Spot Conlon._

Emmaline and Daniel stared at one another for a long moment before shifting uncomfortably.

"You're my employee, we're friends....Nothing more," Emmaline stated.

"Agreed," Daniel replied, "Dat was in da past, Spot and Floaty ah dead. And we'se got our own new lives ta live...New loves..."

"Yeah," Emmaline replied.

Daniel blinked, "You sounded just like Spot dere for a moment."

"I did?" Emmaline questioned in surprise.

"Yeah, in my dreams he always said 'yeah' da way youse just said it, like a laugh," Daniel replied.

"Well, if it helps, you're just like Floaty: Trouble's always finding you," Emmaline replied before both gazed back down at the lavaliere watch in her hands in amazement.


	6. Odd Weekend & Newsie Cemetery

_**Disclaimer: I do not own newsies or any of its characters, Disney does. I own Floaty, Daniel, and Emmaline. I also threw two quotes from the movie into this chapter. :D**_

_**(A/N: The quote on Jack's tombstone is from The Magnficent Seven, I just changed one word from it. The quote was said by J.D.: "Ma'am, I'm a gunslinger, not an inkslinger.")**_

That weekend was more than awkward. Daniel had found himself doing all he could to avoid his boss and almost-friend. He had a feeling she was going out of her way to do the same as well. He stood downstairs arranging the display cases, putting pictures and other items near the front of the cases and putting their framed explanations in the back of the case.

He paused when his fingers brushed the smooth and domed surface of the golden lavaliere watch. It's frame was a hollow heart, welded within the heart was the circular watch. Inside were fancy numbers, an hour and minute hand, and a tiny face with a quick moving second hand. He paused and kept his hand on the jewelry for a moment longer and found himself in another flashback. However, unlike his dreams he wasn't seeing the world through Floaty's eyes. It was as if he was a mere bystander.

_Hard rain poured down onto the lodging house's roof. The wind whistled and howled outside; the Brooklyn newsies were huddled in the lobby. A few of the older children were taking care of the youngest children. Daniel watched the door open, Floaty ran in through the door. She was soaked and resembled a drowned rat. A few of the newsies ran over and helped her fight the wind and shut the door off._

_"Thank you," Floaty smiled, her soft voice echoing around the room. She walked past Daniel and towards Spot, her brown eyes were dark with what seemed to be anger and disappointment._

_"Heya Floats-" He started._

_"Don't you give me 'heya Floats,' Spot Conlon."_

_"What? What's wrong?" The newsboy's look reflected his confusion. His nose was wrinkled, his eyebrows arched reminding Daniel of the golden arches at McDonald's. _

_"Jack told me."_

_Spot stared, "Told youse what?"  
"About your words with Oscar, I could have handled it."_

_"I'se know youse could have, but I'se wanted to make it dead clear ta him ta stay da hell away from youse," Spot replied, "Pardon me french."_

The flashback ended suddenly as Emmaline walked into the lobby, she had stopped in the doorway. Her face let Daniel know she had something to say.

"Hey," she finally spat out.

"Hey," Daniel replied.

"Listen it's silly to be tip-toeing around each other....We're both adults here. In our past lives we loved each other, but this is the present. Just because we loved each other then, over 100 years ago, doesn't mean we love each other now too."

Daniel nodded, "Yeah," he replied, "We'se just co-woikers and friends."

"Exactly," Emmaline smiled, "So I thought to solve our insecurities you and I should go out on a double date."

"What?" Daniel asked, his face fell, "I'se thought-"

"I've arranged for one of my guyfriends to bring his sister, we'll have dinner at Tibby's in Manhattan and from there we'll drop by the Bronx Cemetery and take pictures of the newsies graves."

"Ain't dat kinda....Morbid?"

Emmaline shrugged, "It's history. I want to get pictures of the Newsies graves and frame them." She walked over to the only empty wall in the room, the wall to the left beside an empty display case. "They'll look great here."

"What are youse gonna put inta da display cases?"

"There's a few people who e-mailed the museum about clothing, two lockets, and a cowboy hat they found. Tomorrow I'm going to swing by their places and pick them up. I'm hoping the cowboy hat belonged to Jack 'Cowboy' Kelly. I'll put his hat next to the other side of Spot's since they were best friends."

"Dat's a good idea, so uh Tibby's....Is it fancy?"

"Far from it," Emmaline chuckled, "In fact it's where the Newsies used to dine. I want to go there because Mr. Logan Tibby, the great-great-great-great nephew of Mr. Tibby, and I have agreed to connect to the museum and the restaurant and I need his signature. Tourists who go to Tibby's will be given pamphlets of the museum and the waiters and waitresses will suggest they drop by here. In turn I'll suggest Tibby's to tourists who come here and have pamphlets out about their history."

"Yer making da past come ta life," Daniel smiled.

"That's one of my goals, I want the newsies to be remembered....It's so sad that most people these days don't even know what a Newsie is..."

-----------------------------------

An hour later Emmaline sat beside her guy friend, Mark. Daniel sat at the other side of the table with Mark's sister, Lauren. Emmaline used to have the largest crush on Mark, but now sitting here with him....She felt nothing. She had been hoping her attraction to him would detract the attraction to Daniel, no doubt remnants of feelings from 1901.

She took another bite of her hamburger and glanced at Daniel. His eyes had long since glazed over, Lauren was chatting away about her passion in designing clothing. He continued to give a nod. Emmaline couldn't say her situation was much better.

"In these times it's hard to pay for anything, so if you put a mortgage on the museum you could actually save yourself more money," Mark explained, "Am I losing you here? I'm terrible with this dating thing..."

"No..No...You're fine," she assured, though she wondered what it was about the banker she had ever liked before. All he talked about was the economy, banking, mortgages, and loans. The same old stuff over and over again. She was being way too nice, but she had been friends with him now for nearly 7 years. Her uncle had introduced him to her as the banker who'd be handling his estate.

Assured he was doing well he continued until Emmaline changed the subject...A little.

"Well you know all about banking, could you possibly tell me what bankers thought of the newsies back in the day?"

Mark coughed before wiping his mouth on his napkin, "Excuse me?"

"What the bankers in the turn-of-the-century and the early 1900's thought of the newsies."  
The banker shifted, "I ah...Um..."

"You have no idea."

"Exactly," he blushed.

"Alright, oh look here comes the waitress with the bill," she said a little too loud. Daniel glanced to her and his face melded into a look of utter relief.

"Where are we going next?" Lauren questioned when Emmaline handed the waiter her credit card.

"To the old graveyard behind the Bronx Lodging House," Emmaline replied. The Bronx Lodging House was little more than a skeleton now, it had been burnt in the early 20's by the Harlem newsies. To this day no one knew what had become of its leader (Sheriff). Behind the Lodging house lied a graveyard. Only Newsies could be buried within it.

"We're going to have to give you both a rain check on that," Mark winced as he scratched his head. "I ah...Just remember we have an engagement with a business pal of mine at....."

"The Lexington Hotel's ballroom," Lauren quickly offered.

"Yes, at the ballroom of the Lexington Hotel, terribly sorry," the banker smiled and quickly left with his sister.

Emmaline laughed and looked at Daniel, "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, just a little freaked out dough."

"About what?"

Daniel paused, "We'se gonna be seein' our graves."

Emmaline paused, shivers ran and up down her back. She had never thought of it that way, seeing her own grave while she was still alive was rather freaky.

"It's not our graves, Daniel," she replied with a shake of her hand, "We're no longer those people. We have new lives now and different genders might I add."

"Yeah, but still, deys were us."

Emmaline had to admit, his point was valid.

-----------------------------

Two hours of bumper-to-bumper traffic later Daniel stood in the graveyard with Emmaline. It was a quiet and solemn place. All graveyards were mournful places, but this cemetery had meaning to him and Emmaline both. He beamed his flashlight on the different tombstones (donated by the state in the 1960's) and his mouth went dry when the round light landed on a small square tombstone labeled: Kid Blink.

_"Floats, quit runnin' so fast! Yer gonna get yerself killed!" The boy with the eye patch chuckled, "Whatcha up too?"_

_"Just delivering Mr. Pulitzer's messages, as usual." Daniel found himself saying, but realized the flashback was from Floaty's point of view._

_"How bout youse come ta Tibby's wid me?" He smiled._

The flashback ended leaving Daniel stumbling around in place like a dancing bear. When his eyes focused and he regained his balance he stared at the tombstone again. A pain went through his heart like a dagger. How could he miss someone he never knew? Then again, he hadn't known this boy, but Floaty had.

He swallowed and tried to ignore the sudden sadness, "Hey Emmaline, I found Blink's grave."

"Get a picture," she replied, she was kneeling down in front of a tombstone looking dazed. Daniel wondered what she had seen, if anything, or if she had just found Spot's grave....Her grave.

--------------------------

Emmaline had been cleaning tombstones off with a rag. The tombstone she was currently cleaning was one of the larger ones in shape of a small cross. Then she looked to the name on the base:

_Jack "Cowboy" Kelly_

_Manhattan Newsie - Leader_

_Date of Birth: Unknown_

_Date of Death: Oct. 31, 1905_

_Loving Husband, Father, and Friend._

_"Ma'am, I wannabe a gunslinger, not an inkslinger." -Jack Kelly-_

Emmaline stared at the tombstone for the longest time until she felt herself grow dizzy. She braced a hand on the tombstone and the other on the ground.

_He stood on the stage looking out at the hundreds of newsies in the seats before and above himself, Jacky-boy, and the Walking Mouth._

_"So what do you say, Spot?" Jack Kelly questioned.  
"I say... that what you say... is what I say." He replied._

Reality shoved her back into present day so quickly that Emmaline found herself on the ground. She was dazed, what the heck had that been? Before she had a chance to call out for Daniel a tall boy with dark blonde hair and blue eyes wearing a black vest with white lines down it, a red bandana, and a cowboy hat stood over her; his hands were shoved into his gray pants.

_"Heya Spot," he smirked, "I'se always said wid da way youse were always lookin' at yerself youse gonna toin inta a goil. Guess I'se was right."_

Emmaline blinked and tried to move, however her limbs were rooted to the ground, _"Heya, Jacky-boy, how da hell did ya kick da bucket so early?" _Those words were _not_ coming from her! She realized that Spot was talking through her! Shock sent her crazed thoughts into silence.

_The ghost shrugged, "I'se was helpin' Sheriff fight wid Harlem, next t'ing I'se heah is a gunshot. Some gunslingah I'se toined out ta be, huh?"_

_Spot chuckled, "Ya should move on now, Jacky-Boy."_

_"Nah, we'se stayin' until its youse and Floats time again, den we'se will go wid youse," the cowboy smiled. "I'se see Floats is still always in trouble."_

_"She can't keep herself outta it, Cowboy...Not even as a guy!"_

_"Maybe ya can break heh....Uh....Him, of dat habit, eh? See ya around, oh wise and great leadah," he smirked before disappearing and leaving the night filled with chirping crickets once again._

"Emmaline!"

Emmaline jumped, "Daniel!"

"Woah, woah, lie still!" He exclaimed, his eyes wide, "Youse passed out foah a moment dere. Are youse ok?"

Emmaline paused, "Spot..."

"Spot what?" Daniel questioned.

Emmaline shook her head, "I don't know how to explain it...I swear I was awake....I had a flashback to this huge auditorium, I think it was...Or theater maybe...Then it ended, I lost my balance-"

"That musta been when youse passed out," Daniel added.

"Yeah, I guess," she replied, "Then Jack was standing over me, but I couldn't move. And I began talking, but it wasn't me. It was Spot."

Daniel's eyebrows arched up, "What did Spot say?"

"I....I can't remember," she frowned, "I remember him saying Jacky Boy but that was it..."

Daniel shrugged, "Who knows? Take it easy foah a moment den I'se will help ya up and get us back ta da msueum."

Emmaline nodded, "Thanks."

"Dat's what friends ah foah, right?"

"Yeah, that's what friends are for," she replied. For some odd reason the word 'friends' hurt so bad, like a dagger being twisted into her heart, as if she had been rejected by someone she loved dearly. She realized it must have been Spot's reaction. She sighed, whatever would happen would happen, she decided. She'd let time take its course, if she was meant to be with Daniel like Spot was meant to be with Floaty, then so be it.

A small voice she recognized as Jack's suddenly whispered in her ear, _"Youse gotta remembah why youse were late ta da lodgin' house dat day. Remember before time repeats itself, Spot."_


	7. The Past Returns & Final Chapter

**Disclaimer: I do not own newsies or any of its characters. I own Emmaline and Katrina. The song is "Tears From The Moon" by Conjure One feat Sinnead O'Connor. I'm sure everyone knows where I got the name "The Ghostly Trio" from, if not its from Casper. :) **

**(A/N: Here is the last chapter. :) Hope you all like it.)**

**-------------------------------------------------------------  
**

_**Couldn't sleep so I went out walking  
Thinking about you and hearing us talking...**_

Monday was supposed to be opening day, but with the clothing not being ready until later that afternoon Emmaline decided to postpone the opening a day. Luckily the newspapers hadn't given the specific date of the opening day. That odd message from Jack Kelly still echoed throughout her mind; the message had been meant for Spot...But technically it was meant for her as well since in a way she was Spot. In some odd and almost non-understandable way that was. But also the message provided her with a hint to the mystery of Floaty and Spot's murder. The reason Spot hadn't been there for Floaty was because he was late for some reason.

She rubbed her forehead and wondered about the various reasons: gambling perhaps, a run-in with Jack, maybe a fight with Morris or some enemy newsie? _Too many reasons to guess, I'll just have to keep searching until I find the answer._ She thought to herself.

The morning hadn't been overly hectic, actually it had been a nice change: she slept in until ten, had a quick breakfast, was able to check and answer all her e-mails, and she was able to look through her closet. Her closet, which remained neat, was filled with clothing: casual, dressy, somewhat dressy, blouses, jeans, slacks, skirts, and dresses. Most of the time she just randomly grabbed the clothing from her closet and threw it on without a concern of looking nice, but today she wanted to look nice. She wanted to exclaim to everyone she ran across that tomorrow was the opening day of the Brooklyn Newsies Museum.

She looked through her closet and decided on a pretty blouse that resembled two handkerchiefs. The top of the blouse was filled with dark yellow, orange, and brown flowers. While the bottom empire out and resembled a regular handkerchief with dark oranges and light brown paisley patterns. She put on a pair of her black slacks and braided her red hair, then coiled it into a bun. She pinned it in place with a bobby pin that had a yellow sunflower at the top. After looking through her jewelry box she chose the locket with her uncle's and parents photographs within; a small golden bracelet with various charms on it; her father's wind up pocket watch; and her mother's Claddagh ring on her right hand's ring finger.

Then she glanced at her make-up, or war paint as her uncle had called it. She hadn't work the gook in so long she had almost forgotten about it. She glanced at herself in her dresser mirror did she really want to wear make-up and give Daniel....The wrong impression? What if he thought she was dressing this way for him? Secretly she did want to dress this way for him; she wanted him to do a double take to see her as a beautiful woman who was kind as well as stern. What if she only repeated the past then? But she didn't _have_ to reveal to him she was dressing this way partly for him....Did she? Of course not. She was dressing for herself, to make herself happy.

_**And all the things I should have said  
Echo now, inside my head...**_

Daniel knew Emmaline would hit the roof when she found him with his two favorite gambling buddies playing poker in her kitchen. But quite frankly, he didn't give a damn. All these odd happenings these past few days had him wanting a normal day.

"So, yer livin' in a museum with some strict broad who don't allow gambling; but on da positive side she bought youse new clothes and she's givin' ya shelter, and she's scared off Racetrack Higgins. Sounds like a keeper to me!" Laughed his friend Johnson, who preferred the name Skittery.

"Don't call her dat," Daniel growled. Emmaline, though annoying at times, was a beautiful woman who was kind but strict. She was special, she wasn't some spoiled brat who desired the spotlight all the time. In fact she seemed to go out of her way to make herself invisible. She was almost always dressed in jeans and t-shirts, or jeans, a tank top, and over shirt.

"Youse right we shouldn't call her dat," his other friend, Ralph who preferred the nickname Mush, exclaimed. Daniel had known Mush since they were kids, and he was never one to say a rude or unkind thing about any woman or girl, unless they were underhanded or killers. Mush was staring past Daniel.

Daniel curiously followed his stare and froze at the sight of Emmaline, his jaw dropped. Good God in Heaven! She was beautiful..._More than beautiful, radiant, gorgeous....Shit, extravagant!_ The blouse she wore was not low cut, but was higher up, it only added to the look. Her slacks hugged her form and showed off her curves nicely. Her high heels made her almost two inches taller. Her long hair, which she usually wore either in a pony tail or down, was in a high braided bun. She wore make-up, a pink lipstick, and eye shadow that reminded him of a sunset.

"E...Em...Emmaline," he stammered, "G....G...G..Good afternoon."

"Mornin," Skittery quickly corrected since it was 11:58.

"Morning.....Who are your friends?"

"Not really friends, just gamblin' buddies," Skittery smiled.

"_Gambling buddies?_" Emmaline questioned, the beauty that had walked into the room transformed into a beast before his eyes, a beautiful beast, none the less a beast. "Daniel, may I have a word with you in the living room please?"

"We were just finishing up anyway, miss," Mush smiled, "Daniel, I ain't gonna take yer money, youse keep it." He smiled again at Emmaline before taking his leave. Skittery meanwhile leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised.

Daniel followed Emmaline into the living room.

"Gambling buddies? We made a deal, no gambling under my roof! I got you out of trouble for gambling, and this is what you do! You go back to it?!"

"I'se couldn't help it! I'se was stressed out!" Daniel replied in frustration, "Awll dis damned weird stuff! I needed some sense of normal-ass-cee."

_**I feel something falling from the sky  
I'm so sad I made the angels cry...**_

"Normalcy," Emmaline replied, "Then you should have come to me. You know damned well you can known on my bedroom door whenever you want."

"I'se know-"

"Daniel, do me a favor and shut up," Emmaline exclaimed suddenly.

What? He had barely said twenty words! He stared at her.

"You're an addict, you didn't gamble for a 'sense of normalcy.' You gambled because you can't stop yourself," she shook her head in disgust, "After I find another person to fill you're position you'll leave and you'll be leaving without this weeks pay."

"Emmaline, wait!" Daniel exclaimed, she turned and walked out of the apartment. He quickly rushed behind her, his heart pounding. He knew he'd be in up shit's creek without a paddle, but he had never figured she'd be this angry! "Emmaline wait, I can explain."

She lifted her hand, "Just go back to your game, when he leaves get the museum ready for tomorrow. Tomorrow is the grand opening and I'll be announcing an opening for a job position."

"Emmaline!" He stopped on the stairwell and watched her rush down the stairs, not once did she look back. He groaned. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He had just alienated the only real friend he'd ever and probably would ever have. Damn.

"Well, youse comin' back to da card game or not?" Skittery snapped from the kitchen, "If not I'se gonna look at youse cards."

"I'm comin' already!" Daniel replied, he walked towards the kitchen and stopped. The man sitting there, his gambling buddy, and the pile of cards was the cause of this mayhem. "Take da cards and go, no one wins dis time."

"Now, youse know it don't work like dat," Skittery smirked and reached for Daniel's cards. Before his fingers could brush the tops Daniel shoved the man out of his chair and hauled him to the staircase. He handed Skittery back his money, "Get out! Leave! Dis ain't me life no more, go!"

"So yer going to be a goody-two-shoes, you'll come back, youse will return to your senses. Dat woman ain't gonna keep youse around forever youse know!" he sneered.

"No, she won't. But at least I'll be able to sleep at night knowing that I forced a scum bag out of her house, now get!" He snapped.

_**Tears from the moon  
Fall down like rain...**_

Daniel was a gambling addict, what did she really expect to do? Change him? No one could force another to change, it had to be that own person's choice to make a change. Her parents and her uncle had taught her that all her life. And here she had been attempting to change someone, damn it. She shoved her car keys in her pocket, today she would rather walk to the clothing shop then drive. It was a half hour's walk and she needed the fresh air.

As she walked along the crowded sidewalk she was given a few winks from some guys, a smile from a woman with short spiked hair, and a cat call from some biker waiting at a stopped traffic light. She ignored all of them, she was angry at Daniel and herself. She had trusted him too easily, so what if they loved one another in their past lives? That was then, _this is now._ Floaty had always been in trouble and obviously she was still continuing that pattern. All because she...Well...He now, seemed to enjoy being in constant trouble.  
Maybe she shouldn't have blown up on him? For the past two weeks he hadn't so much as touched a playing card. He was really trying. He needed support, not to be yelled at. She reached into her pocket and grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contacts. The blue bar highlighted Daniel's name and cell number in white letters. She bit the side of her mouth and wondered if she should call him or not....

_**I reach for you  
I reach in vain...**_

The vacuum cleaner roared loudly as he pushed it forwards and drew it back towards himself. The soft and thick carpeting became lighter and darker each time the vacuum went over it. He was half way through with the chore when he heard his loud ring tone.

He turned off the vacuum and grabbed his cell phone, Emmaline's name and number was on the outer screen. The picture that flashed on the screen was the one he had taken a week ago when they were looking through historical documents together. He opened the phone and pressed the green button.

"Hey...."

"Hey....Daniel...I...." Emmaline's voice was cracked, "Listen....I didn't mean what I said, about firing you..."

"Youse didn't?"

"No, I was angry. I....I shouldn't have blown up on you. I should have waited until you were through with your card game then I should've talked to you...I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he replied, "I'se glad youse did what youse did. I'se was going back ta gambling and everything I'se been woikin' for would have been flushed down da toilet. I'se can stay and I'se still get me pay?"

"Yes...I'm just going to be monitoring you a bit more as a boss....As a friend I'll always be supportive."

"I'se know....Hey...Uh I'se almost done wid da vacuuming, how bout when youse get back I'se take youse to dinner?" He listened and waited for her reply, nothing. "Hello, Emmaline?"

_**Tears from the moon, tears from the moon...**_

_"No one insults me and gets away wid it."_

Shivers trailed up and down Daniel's spine, the voice on the other end was male and filled with malice.

"Who is dis?"

_"Youse know who I'se am, Floaty," _the voice growled, _"Dis time I'se gettin' rid of youse permanently!" _

"Daniel? Are you there? Daniel!" Emmaline's voice shouted.

"I'se heah," he exclaimed quickly.

"What happened? What's wrong? You sound terrified I'm coming home."

"No! I'se fine, I ah dropped me phone dat's awll....Go and do what ya need too, I'se will wait heah. I'se fine," he ended the call. Why had that voice scared him so badly? His fear for that voice was far more greater than his fear for Racetrack Higgins, which said a lot.

He continued vacuuming and took a wide berth around Spot and Floaty's room. He was almost finished with mopping the small area of the kitchen floor when a roll of toilet paper flew past him and bounced against the wall near the stove, fell to floor, and bounced once more, then rolled out across the floor. Letters had been carved in the thin paper (which was now becoming soiled from the soapy water on the floor). He stared at the message and gulped. _Get out, Floaty, run. Go away. Go away. Leave. Leave. Leave. Leave._ The same message repeated itself over and over again until the roll of toilet paper was nothing more than a small cardboard tube.

_**It just ain't fair this thing called loving  
When one step there and the other feels nothing...**_

Oscar stood in the living room, his arms crossed and a dangerous sneer shaped his face into one that even scared Sport. The younger Delancey had been waiting a long time for his revenge and he was going to get it if Floaty didn't get the hell out right that minute!

Sport watched the gambler back away, he was as pale as a sheet and his eyes were wide with terror. Sport had succeeded in terrifying him, but not in making him leave. Instead he cleaned up the toilet paper and threw it into a white trash bag.

"I'se don't know who da hells in heah besides Sport, whoever it is get out! Sport, if youse sendin' these damned messages I'se tellin' youse right now ta stop! I'se don't mind callin' a priest!" He shouted and backed into a wall.

"Still a coward," Oscar snarled then walked back to Spot and Floaty's room. Sport didn't need to wonder what was going on, he already could hear the loose floor board being pried open. Daniel heard it too, he ran off into another room and didn't return.

"Stop it, Oscar," Sport growled as he ran into the room. Oscar growled at him and simply ignored. Sport lunged on him and put all his former military training to good use. He couldn't kill Oscar, but maybe he could distract him until Emmaline returned. The two rolled around the ground fighting in struggling. The living would have watched and most likely cheered on, something Sport didn't miss.

"Youse protected dat bitch long enough!" Oscar raged as he bit Sport's arm, causing the former soldier to grunt.

"She's a good woman, she was damned smart to reject the likes of you," Sport replied, "You're nothing! You a reporter? You could never speak proper English! Floaty worked long hours teaching you."

"Youse don't think I'se know dat!"

"Why do you want her dead so badly?! Is it wounded pride?"

"Youse an asshole, Sport!" Oscar sneered, "Pulitzah promised heh to me! He promised his best lady dat was 'down to my level' and it was heh! Dat damned Spot Conlon got his nose inta me business again and took heh!"

"So you want her dead to get revenge at Spot," Sport sneered as he hit the Delancey in the stomach, causing the other to cough and sputter and roll off him for a moment.

"Wrong," he sneered, "She insulted me in front of me me uncle's goil!"

"Youse uncle's goil? _Weasel _had a girlfriend?" Sport scoffed, there was no way that beaked nose man could have had a woman fall for him! Could he have?

"Da original owner of dis lodgin' house," Oscar sneered, "And she hoid what Floats said! She ruined me uncle's plan to marry heh! Floaty didn't only insult me, she insulted me uncle and ruined both our dreams! A person who crushes dreams don't deserve to live!"

_**I would have done anything for you  
I still love you, baby I adore you...**_

Oscar kicked Sport away and quickly stood and raced back over to the loose board.

"If she really loved Weasel dan she wouldn't have listened ta what Floaty said! From what I'se remember she told him ta take a hike after she caught him tryin' ta steal da money from da newsies fundraiser for Spot's funeral!" Sport growled.

"He was probably gonna buy heh a ring or somethin' wid it!" He kicked Sport and continued to tug at the board.

"Daniel? You in here?" Questioned the familiar voice of Skittery. A bone chilling smile crossed over Oscar's face, he vanished a moment later. Sport stared at the vacant space in front of him for a moment, then realized what Oscar was planning to do. He was going to possess Skittery and have a physical body. Skittery would be the one to kill Daniel, plus Oscar would be able to speak to Floaty through the tall gambler.

_**All day I keep from falling apart  
But at night when the sky gets dark...**_

Sport ran out of the room and looked around, where was Daniel?! He ran through the door and found him in Emmaline's room huddled up on the other side of the dresser. His eyes were wide with terror, he was reduced to nothing more than a shivering ball of fear.

"Dis ain't da time ta be a chicken, Daniel!" Sport shouted, the other man didn't hear a word. Shit, Sport's only hope now was Emmaline.

_**Tears from the moon  
Fall down like rain  
I reach for you  
I reach in vain...**_

Emmaline was halfway back to the museum when a shiver traveled down her spine. People around her were continuing along their way, she spun around. No one seemed to be watching her. Confusion wracked her mind, why was she feeling this way then...The streets changed in front of her.

"No, not again," she whispered and clutched tighter to the garment bags. She couldn't stop the flasback.

_Spot beamed from ear to ear, he had sold all his papes and earned more than usual delivering packages for the post office. Though the money he had earned wasn't near enough to even pay for an apartment he could add it to the rest of he and Floaty's funds. In a few months they'd have their own apartment; he wasn't hopeful for buying a house....Houses were rare in Manhattan and Brooklyn, if you bought one you had to be middle class or rich. Also you had to have a hoity toity job; a banker, lawyer, or doctor._

_He was near the lodging house when Morris Delancey lunged in front of him, a large smile upon his face. Morris's smile that meant he was up to trouble always reminded Spot of the cartoon-Devil that was in all the papes. All Morris lacked were the horns, tail, and pitch fork._

_"Get outta me way, Delancey," he growled._

The flashback ended suddenly causing Emmaline to stumble around like a dancing bear for a moment. When she caught her balance she found herself standing only a few feet away from the lodging house. How had she arrived here so quickly?!

"Hey dere, tootsie," exclaimed a new voice.

Tootsie? Since when did anyone use _that_ word anymore? Emmaline turned and found herself face to face with the ghost of Morris Delancey. Then Jack's message repeated itself in her mind once again, _"Youse gotta remembah why youse were late ta da lodgin' house dat day. Remember before time repeats itself, Spot." _

Spot had been late to the lodging house because Morris Delancey had distracted him while Oscar killed Floaty. Anger boiled throughout her, but it didn't stop the remainder of the flashback from returning.

_"And miss bein' da one ta put youse into yer place? I'se don't think so," Morris smiled as he crossed his arms. _

_Spot snarled in anger, all he wanted to do was go home and see and his wife and child. So, Morris Delancey wanted to stop him and challenge his authority. Spot would show the older Delancey who he was dealing with! He swiped his hand to his belt loop, his fingers clutched at thin air. He glanced down and cursed to himself. He had forgotten his cane! Since when did the mighty leader of Brooklyn forget his cane?!_

_**Stop, Stop haunting me...**_

Emmaline suddenly found herself becoming a spectator to this madness and realized the flashback itself was nothing more than a distraction! She tried to fight herself out of it.

_Spot snarled and balled his fingers into a fist, Morris came at him first. Spot lunged out of the way and let the Delancey stumble past him. He turned and kicked Morris. The other man turned and lunged; the two boys became entwined in a fight and soon a small crowd of spectators gathered round to watch. Some cheered for Morris to bring down the 'snobby street rat,' while other cheered Spot on. All the noise was enough to drown out Floaty's screams._

_**It should be easy...**_

_"GET UP, DANIEL! RUN! FOR GOD'S SAKE DO SOMETHING!"_ Sport shouted.

Daniel jumped up and looked around, "Whose dere, dat youse, Sport?" His heart pounded, he wasn't getting any replies.

"Daniel, youse heah?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes, he was letting this damned creepy place get the best of him. Daniel walked out into the living room, "I'se thought I'se told youse ta take a hike."

Skittery turned and smiled at him. Daniel paused, there was something wrong about the tall gambler, his eyes were glazed over and a crazy smile was plastered on his face. In his left hand he held a tall and slim black cane with a silver top on it. Daniel recognized it as Spot's missing cane, and for some reason it scared the crap out of him.

"Put dat cane down, Skittery, it belongs ta Emmaline's museum," he growled.

"Floaty, Floaty, Floaty," Skittery said in a sing song voice, deeper than his own.

Daniel froze and it dawned on him he was not talking to Skittery, he took a step backwards, "Who ah youse?"

_**As easy as when you stopped wanting me...**_

"Don't tell me youse forgotten me, Floaty," Skittery smirked and stepped towards him.

Daniel continued to back away, "Me name ain't Floaty no more...It's Daniel, Daniel Conlon."

"I'se don't care what youse cawll yerself now, youse always gonna be Floaty. Youse were bitchin at me ta use propah english and heah youse are speakin' with an accent." He gave a cruel smirk.

Daniel soon found himself backed into something hard and solid. He glanced behind his shoulder and saw his great-great grandmother's crib. His mouth went dry, he was in the room he was terrified of, the room where Floaty had been murdered. And he was trapped inside it with the man who murdered her, Oscar Delancey.

"Oscar Delancey."

"Dat's me name, don't wear it out!" Skittery laughed.

He was all alone, no baby to protect, no Emmaline coming in and using her magic words to scare off someone. He had to defend himself.

_Please God not again..._A tiny voice whispered at the back of his mind.

_Floaty?_ He thought to himself, there was no reply. Daniel suddenly realized that the thought had come from his spirit. Floaty's spirit.

"I'se can see youse terror," Oscar used Skittery's arms to raise the cane, then sent it flying downwards towards Daniel.

_**Tears from the moon  
Fall down like rain...**_

_"Get him, Spot! Put dat Delancey in his place!" Cheered a small Brooklyn newsboy._

"NO...NO..." Emmaline growled, she shook her head and managed to finally fight her way back to reality. Morris's spirit stood in front of her, crouched down ready to fight. She sneered and ran right through him and into the Lodging House door. A word, a name, something was caught in her mouth and was fighting desperately to escape. Her mind didn't know what it was, but her mouth did.

_"Sport!" _She shouted.

She looked at the top of the stairwell, Sport stood there in his military uniform.

_"I'se got it from heah, Emmaline, youse did good. Now let me save me wife like I'se was supposed to back den..." _Spot's voice exclaimed in the back of her mind.

"Spot?" She whispered.

_"Yeah," he replied, "Trust me. I'se kept youse safe awll dese years, I'se aint bout to let nothin' happen to youse now."_

"Are you the one who kept me from getting into the car with my parents?" she whispered.

_"Yeah, I couldn't let nothin' happen to youse. After awll dis time youse like a daughter to me. Youse need ta trust me, awright? I'se will not let nothin' happen to youse." _Spot whispered in the back of her mind.

"I trust you," she whispered, as soon as she did she found herself no longer able to control her own body. Spot was now in control. He was running up the stairs towards Sport.

_"It ain't good, Spot," _the ghost frowned, _"I'se tried to get him ta leave but he wouldn't."_

_"She wouldn't have left," Spot replied, "Not widdout findin' me foist. Go out ta da fiah escape and jump in through da window. When I give da word, youse grab Oscar."_

_"I'se can't," Sport frowned, "I'se trapped in da lodgin' house, but I'se can sneak around and grab dat bastard."_

_"Youse do dat," Spot replied, "I'se comin' Floaty! Hang on!"_

_**I reach for you  
I reach in vain...**_

Daniel darted away from the cane's blow. Oscar had succeeded in hitting him the first time, however Daniel had got a few good punches in. He had been in plenty of fights before, enough fights to hold his own. But this guy, he was so filled with hate and rage that he was empowered by it.

"I'se comin', Floaty! Hang on!" Emmaline's voice shouted, but it was a tone deeper and with a pure Brooklyn accent.

_SPOT!!!_

Daniel realized the shout had come from Floaty. _Damn it! Talk to me; tell me what Oscah did last time so I'se don't get killed! Talk to me, Floaty!_

_"He did just this...." Floaty's voice whispered in the back of his mind. "I tried to defend myself, but couldn't. He was too fast, too filled with hate and rage."_

Oscar cackled in delight after observing Daniel's terror.

"Well, I'se see it ain't only youse whose afraid anymoah, pretty boy. Heya, Floaty, long time no see! Youse gonna pay for humilatin' me and me uncle. I'se gonna youse back ta hell where youse belong, and ya can take Danny boy heah wid youse so youse don't get lonely! How 'bout dat?" He laughed and threw a punch that knocked Daniel to the floor. Daniel tried to roll away, but Oscar's foot kicked him hard in the crotch. He screamed in agony and curled into a ball.

"Just like den, Spot can't save youse, Floaty! And now Emmaline can't save Daniel!" Oscar laughed and watched the other man roll out of the way, smirking Oscar lifted the cane and hit Daniel with all his strength on the shoulder.

"Hey, Oscah! I'se see youse still a playground bully!" Spot shouted through Emmaline. Daniel watched as he darted over to Oscar and punched him in the gut, then kicked him away.

"Emmaline?" Daniel asked as he struggled to stand.

"Spot," she corrected, "Don't worry she's ok, how's me wife?"

"She's…She's alright," Daniel replied in confusion, "Wait I'se talkin' to Spot? Youse me great—"

"I'se know," Spot replied through Emmaline, "Now get outta me way or help me!"

Daniel looked up at hearing footsteps, Emmaline stood in the doorway, her eyebrows lowered. The look on her face made Daniel realize it was not Emmaline nor Katrina.....That meant...

_**Tears from the moon  
Fall down like rain...**_

"Spot!" Oscar shouted in surprise after he had recovered from the quick pain and shock, "Morris was supposed ta kill youse and dat goil!"

"Morris is an idiot, a lot like youse," Spot growled, "Youse never touchin' me wife, Daniel, or Emmaline again!" He lunged forward in Emmaline's body and landed on Oscar and brought the body he was possessing down to the ground. He hit Skittery's jaw hard producing a shout from Oscar. "Daniel, c'mere an' help me!"

"What do I'se do?" He questioned as he ran over.

"Tell youse friend ta pretend dere's a lot of water in him and think of Oscar drowning in it. Oscah should leave den," Spot replied, "Hurry!"

Daniel nodded and did so, Skittery moaned and grabbed his jaw. His body began to convulse on the floor. Daniel's eyes widened at seeing a transparent hand, followed by an arm, a shoulder, then Oscar's torso pop out of Skittery. A moment later Sport's ghost ran over and dragged the Delancey from Skittery's body. Oscar shouted and struggled, while Skittery's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he passed out.

_"Spot?"_ Floaty questioned through Daniel.

_"I'se heah," Spot smiled and wrapped Emmaline's arms around Daniel._

_"I want to be with you," Floaty said softly._

_**But tears from the moon  
Can't wash away the pain...**_

_"I'se want to be wid youse too. One day we'se will be back together," Spot smiled through Emmaline, "But our spirits our tied ta Emmaline's an' Daniel's so we'se can't cross ovah. But we'se can take a…Vacation, at times." He smiled as he held his hand out. _

_Floaty smiled and reached her hand out of Daniel's body, together the two spirits left their reincarnates bodies. Both watched as Emmaline and Daniel collapsed._

"_I need to work on keeping Daniel out of trouble," Floaty said softly._

"_Yeah, and I'se need ta teach Emmaline ta chill out a lil," Spot chuckled as he embraced his wife happily._

Emmaline collapsed to the ground, her knuckles were sore and bright red. Her body was physically exhausted. But now things became clear to her, why the flashbacks of Spot had started only after her parents' deaths. He wanted to let her know that he was with her and protecting her. Daniel landed beside her looking shocked, the two watched as the glowing spirits of Spot and Floaty Conlon embraced each other and vanished into thin air...

"Da past is ovah," Daniel whispered.

"And the mystery solved," Emmaline whispered.

Daniel looked at Emmaline, "I'se ain't shoah if we'se can evah love one another though, Katrina."

Emmaline rolled her eyes and slapped his back, "Asshole. I'm not Katrina anymore, and you're not Floaty any longer."

Daniel smirked and froze at seeing Sport's spirit, Emmaline looked up and both watched as the solider waved and walked into a bright light....Then vanished into thin air.

"He must have crossed over, good for him," Emmaline smiled.

_**Tears from the moon, tears from the moon...**_

_**1 Year Later...**_

"I'm glad you enjoyed the tour," Emmaline smiled as the last of the tourists left the museum. In one year the Newsie museum had become one of the most popular sights in Brooklyn. The period clothing helped make visitors feel as if they were truly back in the past. Emmaline always introduced herself as Floaty Conlon, both she and Daniel always posed by Spot and Floaty's photographed. Both couples looked identical, except for a few tiny differences. Daniel always introduced himself as Spot Conlon and whenever Spot chose to speak through Emmaline he'd help coach Daniel in the slang of the early 1900's. Floaty would always tell Emmaline through Daniel would she would say or do in a certain situation.

"Dat was a good day," he smiled.

"Very," Emmaline replied as she put a hand onto her stomach, she smiled as the baby kicked.

"So, Mrs. Conlon, what ah youse cravin' today," Daniel questioned as he wrapped his arm around his wife.

"Hmm...How does chocolate pizza sound to you?"

"Uh....I'se will get youse one," he smiled, "Did ya heah what dat one guy said?"  
"What did he say?"

"Dat he saw two people who looked just like us climb down the stairs together, husband and wife. Den we'se came down da stairs. And anudda guy said he saw a World War 1 soldier," Daniel exclaimed.

"I guess Sport must have decided to stick around anyway," Emmaline shrugged.

"Guess so," Daniel replied, "So youse gonna be at my book signin' tomorrow?"

"What do you think?" She smiled, the two chuckled and kissed.

_**Tears from the moon, tears from the moon...**_

"Of course I stuck around," Sport smirked as he watched the happy couple return to their room to change into more comfortable and modern clothing. "If I don't whose going to keep youse two out of trouble?"

"Not us," Floaty chuckled, "It appears all we did was get them into more trouble."

"True," Spot replied as he wrapped an arm around his wife, "So, think we'se should pull da same stair stunt tomorrow, or try somethin' new?"

"Something new," Floaty smiled, "Maybe we can scare away Weasel's reincarnate?" The ghostly trio all laughed at that thought.

_**The End.**_


End file.
